Shattered Glass
by Kurohane Ookami
Summary: Muramasa was the one who had taken everything from him. His name, his identity.. Even his wielder. But he couldn't take away the quiet zanpakuto's icy fire that still burned behind his crystal gaze.


_Strange maze, what is this place?_

_I hear voices over my shoulder_

_Nothing's making sense at all_

_Wonder, why do we race?_

It was raining again.

He frowned, brows creasing slightly as he flared out with his aura, and within seconds small white snowflakes began falling in their place.

Content washed over him in a cool breath of wind, and he tilted his head back and glanced out of half lidded eyes the delicate beauty surrounding him.

He felt something missing from himself, located where his heart would be, and suddenly felt a pang of longing.

_When everyday we're runnin' in circles_

_Such a funny way to fall_

_Tried to open up my eyes_

_I'm hopin' for a chance to make it alright_

"It's never hard to find you, is it?" a quiet voice asked from behind him.

Letting out a breath, a small cloud that disappeared into the air within moments, he turned his head and allowed his gaze to land on the petite form of Sode no Shirayuki.

"Only if you know what you're looking for." he replied, his tone quiet.

The elegant woman arched a slim brow in reply, eyes soft.

"You don't remember, do you, Hyourinmaru?"

_Hyourinmaru..is that my name? _he thought bitterly, returning his eyes to the sky.

_When I wake up, the dream isn't done_

_I wanna see your face and know I made it home_

_If nothing is true, what more can I do?_

_I am still painting flowers for you_

Muramasa was the one who had taken everything from him. His name, his identity..

Even his wielder.

But he couldn't take away the quiet zanpakuto's icy fire that still burned behind his crystal gaze.

And he couldn't bind the most powerful ice zanpakuto in history to his every whim, no matter how hard he tried.

Amoung the few zanpakuto he considered his allies was Sode no Shirayuki and, although most would call it odd, Kazeshini.

He could understand the wind zanpakuto's passion, his drive to make his wielder understand that although his very nature was based upon the instinct to kill and to fight, he was half of a soul, and he was still his wielder's partner, whether he liked it or not.

They were close companions when they weren't around the watchful eyes of the others.

_Show my cards, gave you my heart_

_Wish we could start all over_

_Nothin's makin' sense at all_

_Tried to open up my eyes_

_I'm hopin' for a chance to make it alright_

"You will do this mission, wench." the gaunt zanpakuto snarled, his pale face and violet eyes spitting fire at Haineko, who cringed back with a vicious hiss.

"Make me, you ugly old asshole." she spat back, ears pinned back to her head and tail flicking back and forth in agitation.

Muramasa practically screamed in rage, lifting a hand and hitting the bright neko across the cheek, sending her reeling back with a wail.

She cowered on the floor, her being shaking with both frustration and fear. Most of them did have a healthy respect for the illusionist.

Hyourinmaru, having just entered the cavern, didn't notice until Muramasa reached for Haineko again that her eyes had tears welling up in soundless rage.

Muramasa swung again.

Hyourinmaru instinctually moved, his features neutral.

Haineko waited for the blow to come down on her, as they had many times before, and yet nothing came. Opening her eyes cautiously, they widened even further when she realized who her savior was.

"Hyourinmaru?" she breathed.

The icy spirit held Muramasa's slender wrist in his firm grasp, the only sign of his anger that of the frost slowly creeping up the others arm.

"Never touch her again." he bit out, eyes blazing.

Muramasa wrenched his wrist free and retreated, glaring sullenly.

_When I wake up, the dream isn't done_

_I wanna see your face and know I made it home_

_If nothing is true, what more can I do?_

_I am still painting flowers for you_

_I am still painting flowers for you_

He watched the child across from him emotionlessly, his thoughts jumbled and confused.

This _child _was his wielder? Someone who had the capabilities to harness his massive resources of power as his own?

_I heard everything you said_

_I don't want to lose my head_

It wasn't possible.

It couldn't be possible.

There just couldn't be any way that this was his wielder..right?

_When I wake up, the dream isn't done_

_I wanna see your face and know I made it home_

_If nothing is true, what more can I do?_

_I am still painting flowers for you_

_I am still painting flowers for you_

The white haired child, Toshiro Hitsugaya, the supposed prodigy of Soul Society, launched himself at Hyourinmaru, his teal eyes blazing and the snowy strands of hair alight with ice.

"Come back to me, Hyourinmaru!" he roared out desperately, reiatsu flaring to it's maximum as they collided.

Hyourinmaru had the faintest of warmth flow over his face before he felt his form shift and change, images, names, and faces all flashing behind his eyes.

_"Come back to me, Hyourinmaru." _a soft voice pleaded.

_I am still painting flowers for you..._

His eyes opened, their depths gleaming with understanding.

"_Toshiro.." _he growled gently, twining himself around the unconscious form of his master elegantly and reforming himself to a more human form.

_"You are my wielder, my child." _he breathed gently, the climate around him chilled, his breath a small cloud.

_"I am sorry I ever doubted you."_


End file.
